The route from Cali to Texas is so dry and surrounded by a whole lotta nothing. I’ve called my brother a few times but he’s sent me straight to voicemail. Jerk face.
I’m thinking he may be on a run for his club that he failed to tell me about. He promised that he’d call when he goes on the road like that, because I tend to worry about him.
Well it’s too late now; I’ve packed what belongings would fit into my car and loaded the rest into a small storage unit. I hate leaving Mom and Dad’s house there, but I have no other choice; the doctor I work for just informed me I’m high risk and should stay home. Since my brother obviously isn’t coming to me, it’s only fitting that I go to him.
I put the house up for sale, which I know will blow Silas—that’s my brother’s name—away. He wanted me to do it years ago, but a stubborn part inside me told me to hold out longer. I know my parents are druggies, but I’d secretly hoped that eventually the people who created me would get better and come around.
It’s time I do what’s right for me. I have a baby to think about and I have no clue how to be any type of parent. The closest thing I had growing up was Silas; I guess that’s why I automatically thought of him when the doctor told me to stay home. One benefit of working at the doctor’s office is I get maternity pay. My boss wasn’t keen on having to start paying it to me early, but he’s a good man.
Silas has been bugging me about coming to Texas ever since he left Cali, so I’m hoping he has an apartment or house—a place for me to sleep anyhow. He’s talked about staying at his motorcycle club, but surely he doesn’t live there.
I’ve met his club brother Cain before. He’s a nice guy, pretty hot, but a total player from what I got from him. My brother’s always been pretty decent about taking care of me and keeping the guys away. He’s going to flip his shit when he finds out that I’m pregnant with no man in tow.
Ghost. The name stands out in the back of my mind and I cringe.
Besides my brother and his motorcycle club, I’ve been around one other group of bikers. Well, not group, I only know Ghost and his club brother, Blaze. Ghost’s the Enforcer and Blaze is the Vice President, whatever that means. But they’re in the California chapter of the Iron Fists and my brother is in the Oath Keepers MC in Texas. They’re not friends. When I asked Ghost, he laughed at me like I was an idiot. How was I supposed to know? My brother doesn’t tell me his stuff.
Aghh!
That was a sharp kick to the ribs! This kid’s probably going to be a soccer player at this rate. I always get kicked double time when I’m hungry. On I-10 though, and there aren’t many options for food stops.
I’m amazed this old clunker has even made the trip so far. It’s fine to go from work to home but not driving through California, Arizona, New Mexico, and then half of Texas. I’ve been talking and coaxing her along the entire trip, because hitchhiking while pregnant would suck balls.
San Antonio finally nears and I gladly stop. I have the bladder the size of a pea it seems, and I’ve stopped numerous times along the way, which is probably the real reason why the car hasn’t overheated yet. Bad enough the AC doesn’t work; I’m going to show up at the clubhouse looking like a hot mess.
Once I eat a large strawberry sundae and a kid’s bacon cheeseburger from Dairy Queen, I hit the road again. Only a few more hours to go, because according to Silas’ return address, he’s kind of close to Austin.
I drive for what feels like forever, my eyes growing heavy from exhaustion. I even go too far, having to ask for directions and backtrack. There wasn’t a street sign on the side of the old highway or anything, just a tiny road right off the highway to turn on to reach the compound. Pretty discreet, I’m guessing they like to not be bothered.
My suspicions are confirmed when I’m greeted by a closed gate and a young biker out front guarding it. His cut has PROSPECT in bold letters across the breast area, otherwise fairly plain. My brother’s cut is different; it has a ton of patches all over it.
He leans into my window, getting close, taking in my swollen stomach with his beady dark eyes, “You someone’s Old Lady?”
“No, I’m here for 2 Piece.”
“Shit.” He shakes his head like he can’t believe I’d be asking for him or something.
I know my brother’s not a saint. Women have always stared at him and given him their numbers, but he would never get a random girl pregnant and not let anyone know. He’s not like Ghost.
Once Ghost found out I was pregnant, he slapped me around a few times, yelling at me that it wasn’t his kid, and then took off. I’ve never been hit by a man before, and I don’t ever want that feeling of fear again. I was terrified that he hurt the baby, but my doctor reassured me I was okay, and then suggested I get a restraining order.
I know that he was doing his job, but that never happened. If Ghost tried to hit me again, I’d take a bat to him just like Silas taught me. I haven’t seen him around or been able to find him anywhere though; he simply became a ghost—hence the name.
Asshole.
“Head on in and park on the opposite side of the bikes. Go to the main door; don’t be nosin’ around anywhere else.”
Shooting him a glare, I grumble, “All right then.”
He nods and pushes the gate open so I can drive through. Jerk. Silas said the guys were all friendly down here, but their prospect dude clearly has a stick up his ass. Maybe he’s hungover; that’d explain it.
The club’s way bigger than I was expecting. I thought it’d be this little bar with a few rooms in the back or something, not literally a huge brick compound with a dozen or so bikes out front. It’s so much more intimidating now that I’m actually here.
So how does this work? Do I knock on the door or is this like a business where I just walk in to order something? I wish my brother would’ve just answered his phone so he could have met me somewhere. Surely the front gate guy would let them know I’m here.
Flipping down the ancient gray visor, I peer into the mirror. Not much I can do to fix myself up. With hours and hours stuck in a tiny space with hot air blowing on you, there’s not a lot that can help with that besides a shower and some sleep.
Still, I have to do something. A quick swipe of Dove deodorant, a spritz of Peony body spray and running a brush through my long blonde hair brings me back to looking halfway like myself. Silas is going to be too busy staring at my belly to notice I’m exhausted and feel like crap anyhow.
Making my way up the few concrete steps, I decide it’s best to start by knocking instead of barging in, just in case it’s not a businesslike atmosphere. It’s ten in the morning; hopefully they aren’t partying already. Silas says he always has fun being with the club, so there’s no telling.
Here goes nothing! Raising my hand, I bring it to the thick door and knock a few times. I get no kind of response so I give it a good kick; there’s got to be someone out and about in there if all these bikes are any indication. Probably just a bunch of lazy old men.
After a few moments of me silently pondering what to do, the door opens slowly, and a man sporting long blond hair and a decent-sized beard pops out. He’s tattooed all over like my brother; probably even more so, by the looks of it. I’d guess him to be the same size as Silas, too, maybe a little thinner.
“What?” He barks and makes me jump.
“I’m here for Silas.”
“Who?” The toothpick in his mouth moves along with his lips. His sea green gaze scans over me, landing on my stomach.
“2- Pie-ce,” I enunciate slowly.
“Don’t think so, Sunshine; 2’s already got some company.”
My eyebrow instantly raises. “Oh really? Tell him to get his ass out here and talk to Sadie.”
He chuckles, surprised at my outburst. “Been a whole minute since a bitch spoke to me like that.”
“Bitch, huh? Go get my brother so he can beat your ass for calling me a bitch.”
“Hold up now sweetheart; you mean 2’s your brother, not yo
ur baby daddy?” He nods to my stomach, and I stand up straighter, pushing the round basketball out even more.
“Yes! Do you all think he’d get someone knocked up and not say anything? He’s not like that.”
He shakes his head, his gaze meeting mine finally. “Naw, I know he wouldn’t. I’ll let you in, but like I said, he’s got company.”
The door opens farther and I get a good glimpse of his faded jeans, white T-shirt and leather cut. The word Twist is stitched on one side and on the other side ‘Unholy One.’ Jesus, I wonder what that means exactly; it’s bad enough that the man’s hotter than sin. I’ll admit, pretty darn scary walking into a biker bar full of burly, mean-looking men.
I see my brother’s friend, Cain. It must be his girlfriend next to him or something, because she glares at me like I’m her next victim. She definitely fits in around here; she’s tall and gorgeous like an Amazon woman or something. I’m not staring at Cain to be rude, just wondering if he recognizes me from when he visited Cali with Silas.
“Brother?” A massive tattooed giant stands with his arms crossed over his chest. He looks like the meanest of all and he’s got to be like six and a half feet tall. Silas where are you, damn it? The giant stares at Twist, almost as if I don’t exist, waiting for him to let him know what’s going on.
“Relax, Ares, its 2’s little sister.”
“Oh, Sadie?” His expression lightens as he looks me over.
“Yep, the one and only.” I retort and his lips twitch like he wants to smile, but holds himself back. Amazing how different he is when he finds out I’m a family member. I feel bad for anyone he doesn’t like.
“Come on, Sunshine; let’s go see if your brother’s awake.” Twist rests his hand on the small of my back and steers me down a long dark hallway, playing with the toothpick in his mouth. “Did he…ah…know you was comin’?”
“No.” I huff. “I tried to call but haven’t gotten ahold of him, so I figured it would be better to come here.”
He nods like he already knows Silas has been ignoring me. “Sorry ‘bout that; the club keeps him busy. Did you fly down? I saw that old car out there, not like the one’s I’d imagine you to rent.”
“No, I drove. I came from Cali.”
He glances down at me and whistles, his eyebrows shooting up.
“I know it was far. I’ll hear all about it from my brother. I just want to shower and sleep.”
He stops in front of a door and taps lightly. A pretty girl, slightly taller than myself answers, introducing herself as Avery and lets me know she’ll tell 2 I’m here as soon as he wakes up.
“I can’t believe she’s not going to wake him up now.” Grumbling, I follow Twist.
“Come on darlin’, you hungry or thirsty?”
“I’m pregnant, that should be my middle name or something at this point.”
“Right.” His lips hike up in a grin as he leads me to another room.
Opening the door, I’m met with a very tidy space. The bed could be made to military specifications by how tightly it’s tucked into the wooden frame and there isn’t a sign of dust anywhere. I think I’ve just entered wonderland in the form of a clean man cave. There’s a dresser against the far wall, but it’s the same—clean and free of items on the top.
“Is this your room?”
“Yeah, you said you wanted to shower and take a nap; 2’s room is full, so...”
“Thank you. A shower would be amazing.”
He gestures toward another door to the left. “Use watcha’ want. I’mma get you a snack, you can lay down if you need to rest. Something you craving?” He nods at my tummy.
“Anything with peanut butter, please.”
“Bet,” he replies and leaves me standing in the middle of his room.
Silas was a pretty big neat freak, but that was from his OCD. He couldn’t help it; he had to have certain things in a specific way. This takes it to a new level entirely. You’d think the room was newly moved into or something, and Twist appears way too comfortable to just be joining the club.
His room’s pretty bare: he has a nice desk, a fancy blue guitar, regular plain bedroom furniture, and no decorations. Just blank walls and clean surfaces. Weird. Maybe he’s not here much?
Jumping in the shower, I relish in scrubbing my body clean in his dial soap. He has some beard shampoo so I use that for my hair. It’s probably better than nothing. There’s only one towel hanging up. I feel bad using his stuff like that, but he offered, and I’m too tired to really care at the moment.
I don’t have any clean clothes in here, and I don’t want to put my dirty ones back on. I wonder if he would care if I at least borrowed a shirt. Shrugging, I help myself and nose through his closet, coming away with a pair of army sweat pants and a basic shirt.
It’s perfect. Once I dress, I decide that lying down for a little while won’t hurt; I’ll fix his bed again when he comes back.
My head hits his pillow and it smells like pure man heaven. Geez, I’ve hated being so alone during the first portion of my pregnancy. A man’s scent can do wonders for a woman, and a face like that? God.
My legs clench tightly as I picture him, but don’t get much further as I drift off into a deep sleep.
Twist
She likes peanut butter, huh? 2 Piece and I have our differences, but I would want him to take care of my sister if she showed up. Doesn’t matter, I don’t even gotta sister. Regardless, she looked like she was about to fall over where she stood, least I can do is make her a peanut butter sandwich.
I wonder if she’s getting enough calcium. I’ll bring her a glass of milk too. Cain won’t mind if I use his. And potassium, I’ll bring her one of Ares’ bananas; he doesn’t care. We need a tray or some shit. Rooting through the cabinets, I come back empty handed, but we have a large plate the whores use to display food, so that should work.
I pile everything on the plate, grab a few paper towels, and head back to my room. The chick’s probably starving. Fuck, she’s gorgeous! Just like a bright ray of sunshine with those long blonde locks and deep tan all put together with some cherry red painted toes. Her being pregnant just makes her even sexier. I love a woman with hips, gives you somethin’ to hold onto. Only thing better would be to paint her lips red to match.
My pants grow tighter as I start to get a chubby. Not much I can do about it right now though. Just the thought of her with red lips and them wrapped around my cock makes me groan with need.
I pass Cain in the hallway and he chuckles when he sees me loaded down. “You making me lunch next?”
“Fuck you. Ask Cupcake to get your shit; she’s your bitch, not me.”
“No, I’m good bro, she made me some lasagna.” He flashes a smile and I use my empty hand to throw him the bird.
Fucker’s spoiled by London. Lucky bastard. Cupcake’s a good woman; I don’t blame him for locking that shit down so quickly. I think we all would’ve done the same, given the chance we were to meet someone like her.
My room’s quiet when I arrive; no running shower, just a sleeping Goldie Locks in the middle of my bed. Her damp hair’s spread out behind her. It’s so long; I noticed it right away and how it goes all the way down to her ass. Her petite hands are tucked under her cheek, and her lips are parted allowing soft quiet breaths to escape. That mouth is enough to make a man sin.
Setting the platter down, I continue my perusal. Definitely wearing my T, which is sexy as all hell. My gaze travels further, her legs just positioned enough I can make out ‘ARMY’ spelled down the other leg and it feels like someone sucker-punched me. Marissa.
My wife wore those pants all the time, then my T shirt and her blonde hair. Fuck. I begin to hyperventilate, so I rush to the bathroom, slamming the door and locking myself in. I want to puke, but I stop myself. I’ve lost too much weight as it is, with the dreams and flashbacks.
My back hits the wall, and I slide down it until my ass lands on the ground, my hands yanking at my hair roughly as the voice starts
. Her voice. My daughter.
She’s pwetty, Daddy.
I can’t talk right now, baby. I think and take deep breaths.
Touch hew hair, Daddy; it’s soo long.
Shhh, please! Not now, baby.
Wrenching up to my feet, I shuck my clothes and get into the shower. Turning the spray as cold as possible, my eyes squeeze closed, trying to get my little girl to quiet for the moment. I love talking to her, but I can’t do it right now with Sadie here. It’s not normal to talk to your kid all the time in front of people, when she’s fucking dead.
Dead. I repeat and gag.
The tears come as that word plays over and over in my mind. Gone. No more. Fuck, I hate this world!
I’m under the cool water for probably a good hour until I can finally calm down and collect myself enough to get out. I don’t have to look at her. I can walk straight past and go to the bar. I’ll keep my fucking eyes closed if I have to. I can’t see those pants and hair together; it’s too many memories at once.
When I open the bathroom door, though, I’m caught off guard. She’s no longer sleeping but awake and happily eating her sandwich.
“Thank you, Twist.” She smiles, and my breath catches at her beauty.
“No problem.”
“I borrowed some clothes; mine are in my car still. I hope you don’t mind.” Her kind eyes meet mine, her face still flushed from being warm as she slept.
I want to tell her she’s not allowed to touch those pants, but something holds me back. She looks completely adorable in my clothes, so I keep in the past what those clothes used to represent. “Naw, you’re good,” I mumble, and choke my anxiety down.
She finishes her sandwich quickly with a few bites and gets up to fix the bedding.
“Sunshine, you ain’t gotta do that; I can get it.”
“But it was so nice before, and I wrinkled it all up. It’s okay; I don’t mind.”
“Naw, sug’, I don’t want you bending like that, especially after that trip. You need to take it easy.”
“Damn it, this high-risk thing is going to drive me crazy,” she mumbles, not realizing that I know exactly what that means. I may not have been there for my wife enough when she was pregnant, but I paid attention to stuff that could hurt her, and high-risk was something that I read about in a few of the baby books.
Oath Keepers MC: The Collection Page 52